Experimentation the new breed
by Phoenix2qt
Summary: Whatever happened to the contents of Hojo's lab?
1. Incinerate

"Why do we have to destroy these things?" He grumbled as he fed the jars into the massive incinerator. "Couldn't they have a low level clerk do it?"

"It's a specialised operation" His colleague adjusted the straps on his body armour "Only Soldier can perform the task"

"It just smells like rancid mayo. How bad could it be?" He swung the heavy metal door shut and double checked it had locked. "Let's go get some lunch. We have two hours before ops start"

Their boots made scuff marks on the dusty concrete as they made their way out of the dank basement. Nobody but the janitor ventured down here. He was usually in charge of the furnace and incinerator. But for some reason, they had been ordered to dispose of seven jars of blue, green and red gloop. Each jar had a black jelly substance floating in the centre, and they gave off an eggy aroma.

The jars had been seized from a home in Edge. Earlier they had destroyed the jar with a shrivelled purple set of genitalia in it. There had also been various documents to burn pertaining to the well known mad scientist Hojo.

The incinerator wheezed. Steam poured out of the metal grille set in the heavy door. The red hot glow of fire had been replaced by a spooky green flame. The smell of burning eggs hung in the air as the coals began to spit and spark.

On the ground floor, they could hear a muffled bang, but thought nothing of it. It was well known that the Shinra training deck was in the basement and you could often hear the explosions and gunfire of the Shinra simulations as muffled bangs and thuds. Sometimes you could feel the floor vibrate. It was all down to Shinra striving for excellence in the training of their soldiers.

Molten glass poured on the floor, drying to an ice like sheen. Nails on blackboard noises ensued as seven demon like creatures crawled from the fiery furnace, their claws scratching into the glass, sinking into the concrete beneath.

Their eyes glowed green, Mako eyes. They crouched like panthers, oversized paws armed with razor sharp claws. Their bodies were sleek, blue black skin which captured the light from the fire.

Their muzzles dripped with drool and froth, they were hungry. It was hard work being born from flames. Their long prehensile tongues licked their chops, ran along crooked sharpened fangs.

Seven unholy creatures, borne from fire.

They sniffed the air, scenting humans above them.

Dinnertime.


	2. Barfly

Salvation in the bottom of the glass.

How many drinks had he had?

Three?

Five?

More like fifteen.

The tangy whisky burned the back of his throat as he emptied the glass and slammed it back down on the bar. The barman, used to him by now, swiftly poured him another before going back to chat up the resident bar skank.

He gripped the cool glass, feeling its smoothness cool his fingertips. Half melted ice cubes bobbed in his tumbler, clinking against the sides as he moved it onto a soggy beer mat.

It had been a boring day. All he had killed was a stupid hobgoblin who had attacked a child in the Kalm region. He had felt like baiting the snakes that patrolled the swamp just at the edge of the Chocobo grassland, but had decided against it.

The demon drink had called him again.

It had become a habit, this afternoon drinking. It made his troubles disappear. It made him numb and stopped him from thinking too much. Often he picked up an equally drunk woman, and they would go to her place and have whisky soaked sex, he would leave before she woke up sober. He couldn't face the looks, or the screams.

All his friends had settled down into their lives. They had started families, new jobs and new beginnings. But it was harder for him. He had been asleep for over 30 years and then there was the claw.

Not many women saw past the claw.

Then there was the inability to hold down a decent job. There was no market for decent snipers now that Shinra was churning out its army of super soldiers. He did some mercenary work on the side, but couldn't find a stable career. It wasn't the money he was after; he had amassed a lot of money after meteor fall, advent children and the Deepground fiasco. It was more the routine and the feeling that he had somewhere to belong.

The only job he had been offered was a job at McMidgars. Flipping burgers for a living.

The TV flickered, emergency report.

The newscaster in her bright red blazer looked sickly pale against the bright orange backdrop. A video of the Shinra compound was playing, people screaming and running everywhere.

All Vincent could make out was "Beast Attack" He got to his feet, swaying slightly. He checked his weapons and left the bar, leaving half a glass of whisky sitting.

The door slammed behind him, the barman already guzzling his drink. Hearing the screams, he headed towards the Shinra compound, wondering what fresh hell had broken upon Edge this time.


End file.
